The phone rang. Sydney and Jack, who had returned to the same room where a bored Sark waited, both looked at each other.
"Hello," Sark called toward the phone.
"Mr. Sark," a woman's voice said. "We have him."
Sydney swallowed hard, trying not to show any emotion in front of the terrorist, and failing miserably. Vaughn…
"Excellent," Sark said. "I will arrive shortly."
"Yes, sir," the woman said, voice hesitant. "Sir… there's something you should know."
Sydney eyes widened.
"Yes?" Sark prompted coolly.
"We apprehended him using tranquilizer darts to ensure we didn't accidentally kill him," the woman said. "But after we had him… Diego went against your orders."
Sydney couldn't breathe. He couldn't be… he wasn't… Why did I agree to this? Why didn't I stop him? Why didn't I make him see reason?
"He killed the agent?" Sark snapped at the phone, irritation not from Vaughn's possible death, but from the insolence shown by his staff.
Sydney brought a trembling hand to her mouth, tears of denial springing to her eyes. Why didn't I stop him?
"No," the woman answered quickly. "No. Diego flagellated the agent. I caught him as he was doing it and made him stop, but he had already delivered quite a few lashes."
He's not dead. The relief that shot through her was all-compassing, which directly contrasted with the rage welling in her at the news of Vaughn's agony. Whatever guard had dared to hurt him would be paid back by her. Slowly. Times ten.
"Oh," Sark said dismissively, not caring. "As long as he doesn't kill him, that's fine."
Jack straightened, handing the younger man a burning glare.
"That one time was fine, but make sure it doesn't happen again," Sark amended, unable to look at Jack.
"Yes, sir. I'll watch Diego just as closely as the agent."
Sydney gazed expectantly at Sark, her intentions obvious. She may not be able to speak to him (yet), but hearing Vaughn's voice would be welcome consolation.
To his credit, Sark capitulated with little fuss. "I wish to to speak to Mr. Vaughn," Sark ordered the guard.
The woman hesitated. The roller coaster that was Sydney's emotions again took a plunge. "My apologies sir, but that will not be possible."
"Because…" Sark prompted.
"The agent was in considerable pain, and I felt I risked a repeat of previous events if I allowed him to remain conscious or loosened his restraints to grant him relief," she explained. "So I injected him with a full dose of Chlordiazepoxide, and barring any objections from you, sir, will continue to do so on interval until you arrive."
Beside his daughter, Jack fought to hide a wince. He knew that drug well from countless interrogation sessions he had done under Sloane's orders: horrific on the body itself, sometimes permanently though that had rarely been a concern for him, as dosages were increased. The possible effects regular injections of that drug could have on Vaughn, who had already been at a low point before the torture, was chilling at best. Sydney glanced at him questioningly, sensing his mood change, but he only nodded to her and buried his emotions as a result.
Right now, any effects the drug would have on Vaughn in the future were outweighed by the instant benefit of him escaping his current anguish.
"Excellent," Sark approved, not bothering to even pretend concern. Sydney would just have to deal with it. He had followed her orders, it was not his issue if his staff chose not to do so. "Very efficient. I shall arrive within a few days. I expect you to contact me with any interruptions to the agenda."
"Of course, sir," the woman answered. The phone clicked.
"And that's the enabling combination?"
"Yes," Elsa snapped, irritated. Why do these people not see any urgency in finding Neil?
Rick's eyes widened a little behind his glasses. Elsa sighed. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just…"
He nodded sympathetically, fingers flying across the keyboard. The program currently open was serving as locator. "It's fine, Mrs. Caplan," he assured.
Finished typing, he leaned back in his chair and simply waited. Curious, Elsa mimicked that.
They were rewarded a few moments later when a flashing red dot appeared on the screen.
I'm so stupid. How could I not notice?
Will groaned, burying his head in his hands. He still sat on Vaughn's couch, a fuming Weiss trying to calm down by making sundaes with Aaron in the kitchen.
Sydney felt guilty, too. Of that Will was certain. But she hadn't slept with Francie (Allison). Will had known that woman on the most primal level of human socialization.
And he still hadn't even suspected deception.
"Well, then," Jack said, voice unreadable as he rose. "I have some specing to do."
Sark started to rise, but Jack shook his head. "Stay there."
His eyes narrowed. "Agent Bristow - "
"You'll forgive me if I disregard your story until DNA results are in," the older man interrupted. "Until then - " he reached over and unplugged the phone, tucking it under his arm - "You can wait here."
He scowled but sank back down.
"Sydney?" Jack inquired, noting she had yet to move.
"Right," she murmured. Visions of what Vaughn had obviously just experienced because of his - and her - idiocy swam in front of her eyes, choking off her breath. You'll be fine. You have to be fine. He'll pay for what he did to you, Vaughn. He'll slowly pay.
"Sydney?"
Even Sark looked at her, raising a blonde eyebrow at her disorientation.
"Coming," she murmured. Her father nodded, holding the door for her with his free hand. Forcing herself to pull it together, she strolled through.
Jack gave Sark one last warning glance before following his daughter, closing and locking the door behind him.
She slipped in quietly, carefully ensuring her steps didn't make a sound on the hard cement floor. The agent still slumped over in a forced sleep, unaware of his circumstances, and she knew that right now there was nothing he needed more.
Swiftly, she pulled out another syringe from her pocket, checking the dosage carefully. The drug she had given him the first time, while she had an audience, was dangerous and could result in everything from heat strokes to seizures to memory loss. It was already hampering his blood from clotting.
Which meant that the antidote could do even further damage to him if administered improperly. Senses still on high alert, she stood there for a moment and just studied him, genuinely confused. She had watched his approach towards the warehouse for almost two hours, successfully distracting Diego in the process, and wondered all the while why he had seemed to want to be caught.
Carefully, she knelt by the American's side and injected the needle. She had no doubt Diego would be insistent on giving him some of the dosages before Mr. Sark returned, and so she needed to get as much of the counteragent in his blood as possible for the Chlordiazepoxide the other guard would not be pretending to give him.
"That's impossible," Rick said, astonished.
"What is?" Elsa demanded, leaning over his shoulder.
"According to this, your husband is only a few blocks away," he said, voice still shocked. She knew what he was thinking - this was just too easy.
"What's going on?"
They turned. Sydney and Jack Bristow walked rapidly over to meet them, presumably having finished implementing their plan with Sark. Elsa swallowed hard. They had invited her to that meeting, but that meant she would've had to see again the man (kid, really) that had so carelessly threatened her innocent little boy…
"We activated Neil Caplan's tracker," Rick intervened, sensing her disorientation. "But according to this, he's just a few blocks away…" he typed swiftly, eyes blinking owlishly behind his glasses. "4556 S. Dunston Avenue," he read. "There's an apartment complex there… I might be able to narrow it down to which one…"
"That's Vaughn's apartment," Sydney blurted, studying the screen.
Jack paused. His daughter was a brilliant agent, undeniably, but up until recently protocol had forbidden her from knowing that information. The first time she had been there, as far as he knew, was today, when her spy-honed senses were far from best. How does she…
Sydney colored, eyes falling to the floor.
"Okay," Rick said quickly. "Agent Bristow, with your leave, I'll get a retrieval team ready to rescue - " he stopped, the ridiculousness of his words obvious. Neil Caplan clearly was not in Vaughn's apartment.
"I'll go with," Sydney cut him off. Jack nodded.
"Me too," Elsa spoke up. The father/daughter pair turned to look at her, skepticism apparent. She sighed. "Look," she said shortly. "I'm a spy too, remember? I have training just like you. And besides that… I want to see my son."
"Did you get that, Ms. Derevko?"
"Yes, I did. Sark, I ordered that Mr. Vaughn was not to be harmed."
"I obviously cannot help the actions of the staff at this current time," he returned curtly.
"I wasn't aware you employed people that didn't obey you," she replied, still simmering. "But to get back on topic, I am on my way. Have you contacted him yet?"
"They are apparently waiting for the DNA to coincide before allowing me to do so."
"Excellent. That means I have more time."
"Yes."
Will shot to his feet when the door opened with no warning, eyes widening incredulously when 8 men dressed all in black flooded in. "What - "
"Will, get down," Weiss hissed, gun already out. The agent scanned the intruders wildly, one hand on the pistol, the other holding a squirming Aaron behind him.
"Mommy!" the child yelled.
He's scared, Weiss thought, stomach twisting. If they hurt him…
"Aaron!" a voice returned. One of the men in black tore off the mask, revealing the features of Elsa Caplan.
Huh?
Jack and Sydney followed suit, all of them heading straight for Vaughn's bedroom without a second glance.
"In here!" Sydney called.
Still wondering what universe he woke up in, Weiss followed the team. He was dimly aware of Elsa carefully pulling her son out of his grip and seizing him in a hug as he did so.
Sydney scanned Vaughn's room intently. The locator had all but gone crazy; beeping up a storm the second they entered.
"Agent Bristow!"
She turned. The agent in charge of the team knelt in front of Vaughn's night table, struggling with the drawer. "The tracker is in here," he said, confused.
Sydney shook her head. "So where's Caplan?" she asked aloud.
Her father stepped over, maneuvering the top of the table off with expert precision. He then paused, an unreadable emotion flashing across his eyes.
Neil's small silver tracker sat on top of the safe, flashing wildly. Taped to it was a note in Irina's distinctive handwriting.
Truth takes time.
Up next: Sloane and Sark discuss Vaughn's fate. With him right there and ignored. Don't you hate it when people do that?
Review Responses
445 reviews???? You guys rock.
MvsGirl: I got it. ;)
Ilovemypenguin: Aww, it's the thought that counts. Hee.
Chanel: Good luck!
valley-girl2: :sniffles: Poor Vaughn! C'mere, lemme give you a hug! Wait! Where are you going? Come back!
Karmen: Hope you enjoyed. :)
Anonymousthinker: There is no Mrs. Vaughn in this story. ;)
Kay10197: Special fix delivery! lol
Arwen Vaughn: Who are you talking about? :bats eyes:
Ivy: And dimpled cheeks, too. :D
Kittyfantastico: Awwww! Wow! I feel so loved! :hugs: She's not Sydney, as this chapter helpfully pointed out. ;) Yes, an umbrella sounds like a good idea. LOL
UKHoneyB: I try to do a teaser a day over there.
Raina: Yup and yup! lol. I think SAG has updated fics at SD-1? Don't quote me.
Gatorgrl: I felt so guilty! Mr. Vaughn is my desktop wallpaper, so I would write a sentence and then apologize to him. lol
C-n-C: Good question. ;)
See y'all Saturday!